A Certain Lack of Knowledge
by sunnywinterclouds
Summary: "See you in the morning," he says, and it doesn't occur to her that he's lying. Mark of Athena spoilers.


_A Certain Lack of Knowledge_

_~SunnyWinterClouds~_

Annabeth Chase does not suspect a thing, and ignorance has never been so full of bliss.

She's got two long, perfect weeks to spend with her boyfriend at Camp Half-Blood, and for once in her life she doesn't have anything to worry about. These last four months have been almost like a dream, an amazing dream where there's no war and no prophecy and she gets to see Percy every weekend and on some week days, too, and he's actually getting really good at taking her out on fun dates without being asked. And now it's Christmas break, and she's going to be with the one person who feels like home at the place that _is_ her home and they're going to celebrate their four-month anniversary and revisit that spot at the bottom of the canoe lake and maybe even break a few rules regarding boys and girls being alone in a cabin together, and the dream that is now her life just keeps getting better.

(She doesn't know just how soon she's going to wake up.)

They drive there in Paul's Prius, with Percy behind the wheel because he's recently gotten his license and he jumps at any opportunity he can find to use it. He almost kills them only eight times, which is actually a big improvement from last week's fourteen, and he's so proud of himself that she rolls her eyes at him even though she's secretly a little proud, too.

(She doesn't know that she'll be driving back alone a few weeks later, and that she'll be the one to almost crash the car eight times because the road will be blurred through the tears in her eyes.)

They eat dinner at their separate tables, but they look at each other often enough that her siblings pretend to barf and tell her to go sit next to him, or actually to go sit next to the unbearably annoying Aphrodite girls because _she sure is acting like one of them._ She scowls and flings her mashed potatoes at Malcolm, and Percy sees and screams _food fight!_ and within seconds the pavilion is in chaos. Mr. D's not happy, but they sure are, and everyone that Percy has managed to pelt has blue on them and she can't stop laughing.

(She doesn't know how incredibly long it's going to be until she laughs again.)

They wash off at the beach, and Percy smirks because he's the only one dry and she punches him in the arm for being a seaweed brain. They sing around the campfire, and his arm is around her shoulder and her heart feels as warm as the flames they're roasting s'mores over, and she's happy. She's sopping wet and Percy is gleefully refusing to dry her off, and mosquitoes are attacking her bare arms, and her marshmallow just caught fire and her boyfriend is laughing at her, and she has never been so happy.

(She doesn't know that this is the pinnacle, where her happiness has reached a point where it can't go up anymore so it's just going to go down, down, down, taking Percy Jackson with it.)

She walks him to his cabin, their joined hands swinging between them, talking and teasing and not knowing. He kisses her goodnight, and he smiles at her.

(She doesn't know that smile is going to haunt her for months and months.)

(She doesn't know she's going to play this moment over and over again in her head, the last one she had with him before he disappeared.)

(She doesn't know she's going to wish she'd said something, like _I love you_ or _You mean everything _to me because he does.)

(She doesn't know she's going to wish she'd at least hugged him, or lingered with him, or had something more to remember and hold on to than a goodnight kiss and a smile.)

(She doesn't know.)

"See you in the morning," he says, and it doesn't occur to her that he's lying.

(For a daughter of the goddess of knowledge, Annabeth really knows very little.)

... ... ...

She doesn't even worry when he's not in his cabin the next morning.

_Percy will be Percy,_ she thinks. He probably forgot something crucial back in New York City (like maybe her four-month-anniversary present, she thinks), and he'd panicked and he's driving there now. He'll be back soon. In time for lunch, probably, and she'll break the rules and sit with him.

(She doesn't know he's gone.)

There's no pit of anxiety in her stomach, there's no niggling in the back of her mind that her world's about to change, there's no secret feeling that she's not going to see him again for half a year, there's nothing. She feels the same. She's happy, and Percy will be back in a few hours. She can work on her designs for Mount Olympus while he's gone.

(She doesn't know that gives her six months to perfect her plans.)

Dinner comes, and he's not at the pavilion, and _that's_ when she gets scared.

(She doesn't know she's going to be scared for weeks and weeks and weeks on end.)

She checks his cabin again.

(She doesn't know she's going to sleep there, trying desperately to find a way to be close to him even though he's gone.)

She checks the beach.

(She doesn't know that she's going to spend Valentine's Day there, crying into the ocean and hoping he can hear her tell him she loves him.)

She checks the canoe lake.

(She doesn't know she's going to spend what was supposed to be their six-month anniversary swimming there, swimming down to the spot where they kissed and remembering how the last time she was here she could breathe and _he was with her._)

She calls his mom.

(She doesn't know she'll be calling her every other day to inform her that they still have nothing, and to have someone to cry with.)

He's gone.

And, in a way, so is she.

... ... ...

Annabeth knows how to divide polynomials. She knows trigonometry, and Shakespeare, and a bunch of facts about our central nervous system and our peripheral nervous system and how cells communicate with each other in our brain. She knows that the Eiffel tower has three floors and nine elevators, and that it was finished being built in 1889 and first opened for public viewing on March 31st and that the antenna spire is 1,063 feet. She knows that the Parthenon is 228 by 101 feet and that the roof was covered with large overlapping marble tiles known as imbrices and tequlae and that she would _really really_ like to visit it someday.

(She knows so much about so many things, but she doesn't know how to get Percy back.)

She's memorized nearly every Greek myth there is, and even some Roman ones now that Jason is at their camp. She can recite pi up to fourteen digits, and she speaks English and Ancient Greek and Latin. She knows how to estimate the layout of the inside of a building by closely examining its exterior design, and she knows how to climb ropes and sword-fight and shoot a straight arrow.

(She knows so much about so many things, but she doesn't know how to get Percy back.)

She knows how to trace a call from a private number if she can keep them on the line a few minutes, and she knows how to erase a call to make it look like it never happened. She knows how to read body language to find out if someone is a threat, or even if they like the girl sitting next to them, and she knows how to hide her celestial bronze dagger so that nobody will panic if they see it. She knows how to stay strong, and she knows how to keep going without sleep for days and to not cry even when she really wants to.

(She knows so much about so many things, but she doesn't know how to get Percy back.)

(She doesn't know how to get Percy back, and that's the only thing in this world that matters, so she doesn't know anything.)

(For a daughter the goddess of knowledge, she knows absolutely nothing.)

... ... ...

She memorizes the voice mail he left for his mom.

(She doesn't know how to contain her tears of joy when she hears his voice again after so long.)

_Mom. Hey, I'm alive. Hera put me to sleep for a while, and she took my memory, and... anyway, I'm okay. I'm sorry. I'm on a quest. I'll make it home. I promise. Love you._

(She doesn't know much, but she knows that message like the back of her hand.)

(She knows how he trails off a bit like he doesn't know what to say after he mentions that Hera took his memory.)

(She knows how he pauses after saying that he's on a quest, like he regrets making his mother worry.)

(She knows how he chokes up the tiniest bit when he tells her he's sorry.)

(She knows how he ends it suddenly like he is on a time limit, in a hurry.)

(She knows Percy is _always_ in a hurry, so he can't have changed too much.)

(She knows that she's a little hurt that he called his mom and not her, but she's too happy to care all that much.)

(She knows that he's alive.)

(And she knows that he remembers.)

(And she knows that she's happy again.)

(Percy makes her happy.)

(She loves him.)

(That's something she knows.)

... ... ...

She is trapped in the underworld. She's scared, and hurt, and helpless, and she should be miserable.

(She knows that she should be miserable.)

But she has Percy with her. And she's happy.

(She knows that as long as she has Percy with her, she's happy.)

(She knows that she can depend on him.)

(She knows that she loves him.)

(She knows that he loves her.)

(Percy is the one thing she knows.)

(And she'd rather be stuck in the depths of Tartarus with him than in the living world without him, and she knows he feels the same.)

(She knows that she's happy.)

(She knows it's because of him.)

(She knows that as a daughter of the goddess of knowledge, she should want to know more, but she finds that knowing Percy is enough.)


End file.
